I am an Introvert

My uncle told me the other day “You’re shy like your dad”

By which he meant not shy at all.

My dad is an extrovert. He enjoys hanging out with people. He can make conversations with anyone about anything. He can find something in common with anyone. He can sell anyone anything.

And that is not me.

It surprises me how many people think I’m outgoing.

Because I’m not.

I’m the girl who would rather spend her Friday night curled up with a good book then go out for drinks.

I’m the girl who avoids large groups as much as possible or talk myself into going because it’s the right thing to do.

I am an introvert.

I used to think something was wrong with me, that is was a flaw. But now I know better. It’s just the way I am. I like to be alone. Sometimes people exhaust me. Sometimes I don’t want to be social. But it’s okay. It’s me.

I need alone time. That is when I am most relaxed and at ease.

But I love people. I love my friends. I don’t have a lot of friends, I have never felt like I needed a lot of friends, but I love the ones I’ve got.

I don’t need to go out every night, much to my parents confusion. Why don’t you go out more? Why don’t you have a social life? They ask. And the answer is it is exhausting to go out. I need me time sometimes.

Being an introvert is different than being shy.

I am slow to warm up to people, to open up to people. But once I know you, I can seem outgoing. I can laugh and joke and have fun. I can be bubbly and silly. I can have long and wonderful conversations. But it takes time.

I am an introvert.


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